


Knights of the Living Dead

by Thursday_Next



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Community: reel_merlin, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-05
Updated: 2011-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-23 10:58:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thursday_Next/pseuds/Thursday_Next
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin Emrys is having one hell of a bad week. And that's <i>before</i> the zombie apocalypse. So when he finds himself on the run from the undead with his best mate, his mum and his prat of a boss, there's only one thing to do, obviously: go to the pub. 'Shaun of the Dead' AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knights of the Living Dead

**Author's Note:**

> For reel_merlin, based on the film prompt 'Shaun of the Dead'. With thanks to violence_4 for the beta.

Merlin Emrys was having one hell of a bad week. And that was _before_ the zombie apocalypse.

Freya dumped him on a Thursday night. Looking back, Merlin could see how things had been going wrong for a while, but at the time it came as a bit of a shock. He'd always had a tendency to be just a little bit oblivious when it came to that sort of thing.

She'd asked him where he thought they were going. He'd replied 'down the pub'. It turned out that that hadn't really been what she'd meant and there was no recovering from that, really.

Freya turned to him with that look on her face, the 'not angry just disappointed' one he was becoming familiar with lately, not all that dissimilar to the one his mum used to wear when he'd come home having got a C in a test at school. Sometimes Merlin felt a bit like he was getting a C in life. Could do better. Not really living up to his _potential_.

"We never do anything anymore," Freya said, "How can we really be going out if we never go out anywhere together?"

"We're going out now," Merlin replied, confused.

"To the Camelot, yeah," Freya sighed. "It's not that I don't like the Camelot, it's just that that's all we ever do, go to the Camelot, have a pint. And it's not that I don't like Will, it's just that he's always there. No offence Will," she said to Will, who was pulling on his jacket.

"None taken." Will burped loudly and lounged against the wall.

"And if it's not Will, it's Arthur."

"That's not true," Merlin interjected, "Arthur never comes here. I've invited him often enough, pretty much every week, actually, but he seems to think it's a bit beneath his dignity, the prat," he said, with a sort of amused affection to the insult. Then he noticed Freya's expression and his smile faded. "What?"

"You promised to spend more time with me, Merlin. I haven't seen you all week and the one night we meet up, this is all you want to do."

"It's not my fault," Merlin protested, "I've been working late. Arthur's been a right ass this week about the review tomorrow, he's had me doing all sorts."

"And you just have to do whatever Arthur asks." She folded her arms across her chest.

"Well, yeah, he is my boss, that's kind of the arrangement."

"Merlin, I don't go and get my boss a take away at seven thirty when I'm supposed to be on a date! And even when you're not working you're always _talking_ about him; honestly, you might as well be going out with him instead."

"What do you mean by that?" Merlin demanded. "I don't know what she means by that," he turned to Will. "Honestly. Go out with him? Ha, as if." Will coughed loudly, muttering something that sounded distinctly like 'chance would be a fine thing', which Merlin chose to ignore.

"It was just a figure of speech, Merlin," Freya sighed. "Look, you're a nice bloke, Merlin, really, but I think we both know this just isn't going to work out."

"But..."

She shook her head, kissed him on the cheek and walked out. Merlin didn't exactly try to stop her which probably said a lot about why it had happened in the first place.

"Mate," said Will, shaking his head, "You just got massively dumped."

"I... I did, didn't I?"

"Pub?"

"Yeah, why not?"

 

*

 

One hour later Merlin was sat at his regular table at the Camelot. Taking his role of supportive best friend seriously, Will sat opposite him instead of playing on the bandit as he usually did by the time they were on their second pint. Merlin picked morosely at the sticky veneer of the table.

"I just... she was nice, you know? I thought we could be... I dunno."

"Fuck her. Got your pint, got your pickled eggs, what more do you want?"

"I suppose."

"She's the one who's missing out," Will declared, sweeping his arm expansively and nearly knocking over Mary the landlady who was collecting glasses. "I mean, look at this place. It's got everything you could want. Got a bandit, got a jukebox," Will paused to take a swig of his beer, "Even got a plastic sword stuck in a stone over the bar. Never quite worked out why, but it looks cool."

"Will, the pub's called the _Camelot_ ," Merlin pointed out. Will shrugged and Merlin shook his head, not in the mood for explanations.

"Anyway," Will carried on, "There's plenty more fish in the sea. Mary behind the bar's got her eye on you, you know." Merlin blushed.

"Will! She's old enough to be my mum!"

"Not as old as that guy, though," Will gestured to an elderly man in the corner, same seat he always sat in, nursing a pint of bitter. "He must be, what, 500? He's as pickled as your eggs." The old man seemed to notice them looking in his direction and raised his glass to them.

"None of us can know our destiny, young Merlin," he called across the pub, voice gravelly, "And none of us can escape it."

"Er, right, cheers for that," Will called back, raising his pint anyway and draining it. Merlin followed suit.

"The time for your destiny to reveal itself is near!"

"Fancy another?" Will asked, ignoring the cryptic ramblings from the bar. Merlin nodded.

"Why not?"

(By nine am the following morning, Merlin would be able to write essays in answer to the simple question 'why not?'.)

 

*

Four pints later, they stumbled home and managed to piss off Valiant by playing music far too loud. Will and Merlin had known each other since primary school and moved in together when Merlin had graduated from uni (and Will had dropped out). They couldn't afford a house just the two of them on only Merlin's meagre wages, hence Valiant. He kept himself to himself for the most part, and was generally civil to Merlin, but he and Will couldn't stand each other, their relationship had started off frosty and progressed quickly to glacial.

"Is this really necessary?" He demanded, storming into the lounge. "Some of us have _work_ in the morning." He glared pointedly at Will, a sneer on his face.

"Oh, that's me, I have work," Merlin said, raising his hand. "Work. I have this boss, Arthur, he's such a prat."

"So maybe you might want to consider getting some sleep?" Valiant hissed through his teeth.

"Oi, lay off, he's just got dumped," Will said, sloshing beer from the can he'd found in the fridge onto the carpet.

"Well unless you want to be dumped and evicted all in the same week, I suggest you turn that shit off." He turned to Will with a sneer. "And maybe find yourself some better friends."

"Oi!" Will shouted belligerently.

"You leave him alone."

"I suppose it makes you feel better about yourself hanging around with someone even more pathetic than you. I'm not surprised that girl dumped you, look at yourself." He turned his nose up, "I'm going to bed. Try not to disturb me. Or my snakes."

"Alright," Merlin said, "Night Val."

"Night twatbag."

"Will!"

"Aw, don't look like at me like that, he is a posh twatbag and you know it."

"Yeah, but he's a posh twatbag who pays half the rent. Turn it down, alright. And maybe tidy up just a little bit?"

"I'm not doing nothing for him."

"Then can you do it for me? Please, Will. I like this flat, it's walking distance from the pub. You don't want to have to move somewhere we'd have to get the night bus home, would you?"

"I suppose not. But for you, yeah, not for that stuck-up prick. Next time I see him he's fucking _dead_!"

"It's true what he said, though," Merlin sighed, sinking down onto the sofa. “I am pathetic. My career involves running around after a pompous prat, my social life involves hanging out in a medieval theme pub whose regulars are so old they may as well be the undead and I live with a workshy drugdealer – no offence Will - "

"None taken."

"And a twat who keeps snakes. My girlfriend just dumped me. Really, could my life be any more pathetic?"

(By the following afternoon, Merlin would be able to write reams in answer to this simple question.)

 

*

 _Beep, beep, beep, beep._

"Shit." Merlin glared at his alarm clock but it didn't magically combust, much to his disappointment.

Will was killing zombies when Merlin got downstairs.

"Fucking hell, mate, it looks like the dead have risen to walk the earth."

"Cheers. That's pretty much how I feel. Where's the resolve?"

"Third cupboard on the left."

"You're up early." Merlin yawned.

"Haven't been to bed." Will didn't take his eyes off the screen, fingers tapping furiously on the buttons.

"Chuck us the other controller, then," Merlin sat down next to him.

"Don't you have work?"

"Shit, yeah." Merlin stood back up again and groaned as the room began to spin. "I am so hung over. Do you think Arthur would notice if I stayed home and played X-Box?"

"Yep."

"Yeah, you're probably right, it's that big important whatsit this morning . He'll be a right grouch if I don't get his coffee."

"You'd better get a shuffle on then mate, it's already quarter to nine."

"Quarter to... fuck! Fuck. He's going to kill somebody, he's actually going to kill somebody. Probably me." Merlin paused and reflected. "I'd better get him a pastry as well."

Will arched one eyebrow. "Sod off then, don't want to keep his highness waiting for his mochaccino."

"Actually, he has a capuccino with an extra shot of expresso and extra foam." Merlin said with a fond expression and Will snorted.

 

*

Walking distance from the pub was all very well, Merlin reflected as he struggled to keep his eyes open on the bus, full at this time with the same old people all staring gloomily straight ahead or out of the window, but walking distance from work might have been better. He got off at the corner and shuffled into Starbucks, picking up an apricot pastry as well as the cappucino (extra shot of espresso, extra foam), in the hopes that it might placate Arthur for his lateness. It might have worked as well, if he hadn't eaten it on the way to the office. If he could just hide the paper bag...

"Merlin, there you are!" Too late. Arthur crossed the floor in three strides. "Where the hell have you been?"

"I..."

"I don't want to hear your excuses, Merlin. My coffee?"

"Here."

"Pastry?" He asked hopefully, eyeing the bag.

"Um, no, sorry I ate it."

"You ate my pastry?" Arthur's eyebrow quirked up. "Some assistant you are."

"I did it for you!" Merlin blurted out, "To help you, um, you know, keep in shape."

"Are you saying I'm _fat_?" Arthur demanded, incredulous.

"No, of course not, which means it's obviously working," Merlin smiled.

"You're an idiot," Arthur said, shaking his head. "What did I do wrong in a past life to deserve to be surrounded by such total and utter incompetence?"

"You've not had your breakfast this morning, have you?"

Arthur picked up a stapler from the nearest desk and held it up as if threatening to throw it at Merlin.

"No, Merlin, I have not had my breakfast today because _you_ didn't bring me any!" he said through gritted teeth.

"You know it's not actually in my job description to feed you? What next, you'll want me to scrub your back when you're in the bath?"

They both paused at that, Arthur still with the stapler poised to throw. Merlin swallowed. Arthur looked away first.

"It is in your job description to get here by nine," he pointed out.

"Sorry," Merlin said through gritted teeth, because he could hardly plead going to the Camelot to get pissed as an excuse. Arthur's shoulders slumped and he set the stapler down.

"Here," he reached one hand out towards Merlin's face.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Merlin stammered, staring at him wide-eyed.

"You've got... crumbs..." Arthur shook himself, pulling his hand away. "Look, idiot, we don't have time for this. I'm three men down and the divisional manager is coming in _today_ to check on our progress."

"You mean your dad?"

"Yes, Merlin, my father, although when we are at work he is the divisional manager and nothing more. Personal relationships have no place in the workplace."

"No, I suppose not," Merlin half sighed. He'd only met Uther Pendragon a handful of times but he'd spent enough time with Arthur to understand that their relationship outside of work was not exactly close.

"That includes personal calls taken in office time. Fath- I mean, _Mr. Pendragon Sr._ , frowns on that sort of thing. I'll need you to remind the rest of the staff of the no phone rule at the morning briefing."

"Me?" Merlin blinked at him.

"I realise you have some kind of borderline mental affliction, Merlin, but I've got a conference call in five minutes and you're the next most senior member of staff with Leon and Pellinore apparently off sick."

"Right."

*

Merlin had never taken a briefing before. Which was probably fairly obvious to everyone in attendance. He attempted to lean on the desk in a casual manner and nearly fell over it backwards, stabbed himself three times with the biro he was fiddling with, and the work-experience kid, Mordred, actually answered a phone-call in the middle of his speech about the no-phone rule.

"Um, do you mind? You're actually not allowed to take personal calls. Arth- Mr. Pendragon said - "

"Yeah, yeah, easy, Grandad, I'm done now, yeah, so you can go back to licking Mr. Pendragon's arse."

"What do you mean, 'grandad'?" Merlin protested, pointedly ignoring the second half of the sentence and the images it conjured up. "I'm twenty-six! Do I look like an old man with a white beard to you?" Mordred shrugged. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Fifteen."

"Jesus. And you're the only one who understands the office computer system?" Merlin asked, suspicious. Mordred shrugged again. "Right well, time to... er... start the day productively. Up and at 'em." He gave an enthusiastic hand signal. Inspiring, motivational, that was what was needed. Mordred wrinkled his nose in vague disgust, the rest of the staff stared blankly at him. Merlin deflated.

C grade, definitely.

 

*

It was just Merlin's luck that his phone went off just as Arthur called him into his office.

"Er, I'll just... um... hello?" He hissed quietly into his phone.

" _Merlin, it's me, Will. Can you pick up a take away on your way home? Chinese would be good._ "

"Yeah, sure, I'll get right on that, thank you for calling Albion Inc. Have a nice day!" Arthur was glaring at him.

 _"Merlin, what are you -"_ He pressed 'end call' quickly.

"Will. From... er... HR."

"Really?" Arthur favoured him with a disbelieving expression, one eyebrow raised. Merlin opened his mouth to defend himself when his phone rang again. Arthur's other eyebrow climbed up to join the first. Merlin cursed silently. Lightning really wasn't supposed to strike twice in the same place, it wasn't fair.

"Look, Will, can I... oh, hi, mum." He cringed. "Mum, I'm at work, can this... Yeah, I know. I know. I'll visit soon I promise. Sunday. Ok, tomorrow then. Alright, bye, love you."

"Are you going to try to tell me your mum works in HR as well as your boyfriend?"

"Will's not my boyfriend," Merlin protested. "I had a girlfriend, actually, up until last night, which, by the way, was partly your fault - "

" _My_ fault?"

"Yes, if you didn't keep me working late and if you weren't so... such a _prat_...I mean... Sorry. It won't..." Merlin's phone rang again. He switched it off without even looking at the caller display. "Happen again."

"It better not." Arthur was smirking at him. His smirk fell from his face as an attractive dark-haired woman entered the office and could be seen talking to Elena, the receptionist. Merlin followed the direction of his gaze.

"Hang on, isn't that your sister?"

"She's not my sister." Arthur protested.

"Are you going to try to tell me she's the head of marketing or something? I've seen pictures of you and her, skiing. Morgan? Morgana?"

"I mean she's not my sister. Not my real sister. Step sister."

"I think you'll find that still counts as a personal relationship. And if the staff aren't allowed to take phone calls I think that your sister coming into the office-"

"Step-sister!"

"Is equally breaking the rules." He paused. "You know I'm pretty sure Leon has a thing for her."

"He's a dead man," Arthur said. "If he so much as looks at her again." Merlin knew he was looking at Arthur with what Will called 'that soppy grin', but he couldn't help it. "What?" Arthur demanded, noticing Merlin's expression .

"It's just... sweet, that's all."

"Sweet? What, me threatening violence against your colleague?"

"Defending your sister's honour."

"She's not my sister. And you are a strange man. What did I call you in here for again?"

"To fetch you lunch?"

"Probably. Sausage baguette from that place round the corner. No mayo."

"That's probably for the best."

"That better not be another crack about my weight, Emrys."

"Wouldn't dream of it, sir."

"I'll have you know I'm in peak physical condition. I go to the gym three times a week. I could take you apart with one blow."

"Two threats against staff members in two minutes, you'd better hope _the divisional manager_ doesn't hear about this," he said cheekily.

"I'm not making threats, I'm making promises. If you went up against me, you wouldn't be able to walk for a week, I'm telling you." He swept a strand of hair back from his forehead. "Merlin? You alright?"

"Um, yeah," Merlin said, voice a little husky. "'Course. Sausage baguette, right." He tripped over three things on his way out of Arthur's office and bumped into Morgana in the doorway.

 

*

Merlin was attacked on the way out of Starbucks.

He span around, brandishing Arthur's baguette and possibly yelping just a little bit.

"Merlin? Merlin, it is you, oh my god!" Merlin found himself enveloped in a hug before he had a chance to see who it was who had unceremoniusly jumped on him. "How've you been? I mean, you look good. Not that I was looking, not for me, I'm not, obviously... but you know, good in general. How's Will?"

"Hi Gwen," Merlin said, voice slightly muffled. "Do you think you could let me go now?"

"Yes, of course, sorry. Gosh how are you, what has it been, a year now?"

"Thanks. Yeah, must be. I'm good, thanks."

"Still working for Arthur?"

"Er... yeah, actually."

"Oh. Well. That's... that's great," she said, with what had to be false enthusiasm.

"It's not so bad. How are you?"

"Fantastic. I got promoted last month. Oh, and Lance and I just moved in together."

"That's brilliant." Merlin smiled genuinely. "Look, I've got to run, Arthur doesn't like to be kept waiting for his lunch." Gwen gave him what he pretended wasn't a sympathetic look and kissed him on the cheek.

"See you soon, ok? Keep in touch."

 

*

"Alright, pratface," Merlin grinned as he walked into Arthur's office. "Got your baguette. Got you a bag of crisps as well to make up for being so late this morning. I guess it's not really your fault I got dumped and had to spend the evening drinking and had to come in this morning with a massive hangover, just like it's not really your fault you've got a massive stick up your arse about your twat of a dad coming round to breathe down our necks this afternoon so..."

The chair span slowly round and Merlin dropped the baguette as Uther Pendragon gave him the sort of look you'd give to something stuck to the bottom of your shoe.

And that was how Merlin came to be fired.

*

"Well," said Will, as Merlin arrived home, "It's not the end of the world."

He was wrong about that, as it turned out.

 

*

"...and really, the entire capitalist system of work and pay is designed to keep the likes of us repressed, like mindless zombies, working for these rich, entitled arseholes."

"I've lost my job. Valiant really will kick us out. I'll never get nyone to go out with me I'll never even see Arthur again. Oh god, oh god."

"Stick it to the man, Merlin."

"Well, not like I'll get a chance now."

"What?"

"I mean...." He was cut off by a crash against the window. "What the fuck was that?"

They rushed outside. In the small strip of fenced in grass masquerading as a garden stood a woman with her head bowed, feet shuffling. She spotted them and started towards them.

"Off her nut," was Will's observation.

"One of your customers?" Merlin asked.

"Don't think so. Here, she's going right for you. You don't half attract the nutters."

"Hey, excuse me," Merlin tried his politest smile, "Um, I'm flattered, but I'm really not..." She lifted her hands to his face, leaning in as if trying to kiss him. Or trying to bite him. He pushed at her, but she was freakishly strong. He tried again, a bit of an _extra_ push and she stumbled back, only to be impaled on a loose fence panel.

"Holy shit!" Will gaped.

"Fuck, I've killed her, fuck..." Just then, the woman peeled herself off of the wooden splinter and headed back towards them with renewed purpose.

There was only one thing for it; they ran back inside and bolted the door. Will turned to look at him.

"Merlin, pinch me, just to make sure this isn't a weed-induced hallucination brought on by playing too much Silent Hill." Merlin pinched him. "Ow, alright, alright!"

"Shit, Will, switch on the telly."

Now that they knew what they were looking for, there were zombies all over the news.

" _The undead are attacking the living. Infection is spread through biting their victims. The infected can only be killed by removing the head or detroying the brain."_

Merlin and Will looked at one another.

 _"The public are advised to avoid confrontation at all costs and to stay in their ho... aaaaaaaarrrrggghhhhgll."_

They looked at one another again, eyebrows raised an inch higher.

"Right then. Removing the head!" Will walked toward the garden door.

"Will, what are you doing! The man said to stay indoors."

"Fuck the man! What have I been trying to tell you this morning, Merlin?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't 'get yourself killed by zombies, Merlin'!" Merlin grumbled as he followed his friend out onto the patio. The zombie from before had been joined by another, one who bore a suspicious resemblance to old Mr. Monmouth who lived two doors down.

Will collected everything throwable he could get his hands on - which amounted to three potted plants, a watering can, a rake and a bucket full of rain water and fag ends - and stood on the patio with a determined look on his face. Merlin paled.

"Seriously, Will, come back inside, you'll get yourself killed!"

"Nonsense, I've had years of practise on the X-box, I know exactly what I'm doing.“

"Somehow I don't think we're going to be able to kill them just by pressing lots of buttons quickly,“ Merlin observed.

“Don't be such a wimp. Come on, which one do you want, the woman or the man?"

"You know me," Merlin grinned weakly, "I'm not that picky." Will rolled his eyes.

"You know," Will said conversationally as the plant pot he'd thrown bounced uselessly off the female zombie's chest, "You could always just use your magic."

 

**

 

Ah. The magic.

The trouble with Merlin's magic was that, like so many things in his life, it was a little bit rubbish. It was mainly useful for levitating things across the room when he was too lazy to get up and fetch them. It would, of course, be too much to ask for his powers to be anything useful that could help him to turn back time, or charm people, or turn water into beer, anything like that. Apart from his mum, Will was the only one who knew about it. He and Will had spent the last summer of school using it to drop things on the heads of people they didn't like and make girls' skirts blow up (and a few boys' trousers fall down, but Will didn't appreciate that so much.)

It sufficed to make a few garden implements fly across the garden and decapitate the first zombie, while Will felled the second with a well-timed thrust of a pair of pinking shears to the throat. Quite why they owned pinking shears, Merlin wasn't sure, he suspected they were one of those things his mum was always giving him for Christmas claiming they'd 'come in handy one day'. In this instance she'd turned out to be right.

He and Will retreated to the house and bolted the back door once more.

"Well, that was..."

"Bloody hell."

"Yeah."

They had only a few seconds to relax before there was a thumping sound on the stairs. Will looked at Merlin.

"It's fine," Merlin said, "It's just Val."

"I thought he had work," Will pointed out, "He made all that fuss about it last night."

Val appeared in the doorway, pale and bloodshot.

"Jesus, Val, you look like your hangover's worse than mine," Merlin said, laughing nervously. Val groaned and lumbered towards Will, eyes dead but hands held out in front of him with deadly intent.

"Why the fuck do we have to live with the one person who doesn't look any different undead or alive?" Will complained. Val lowered his head to bite. "Merlin, for Christ's sake, do something!"

Merlin cast his eyes around for something to pick up and throw. There was nothing. He thought back to secondary school and the people who had tried to push him into the coat hooks in the gym and _pushed_ with his magic. Valiant fell back onto the ground, Merlin held out one hand and reached for the stack of records on the table flinging them magically at him until his head was severed from his body.

The room was covered in blood. Will, veteran of a thousand plus hours of Silent Hill, looked pale and queasy.

"Aw shit, he's bleeding all over Hatful of Hollow.”

Merlin staggered back. Maybe his magic was useful for something. Maybe...

"Will," he said, grabbing his friend's arm, "Pull yourself together. I need your help. We need to find Val's car keys."

The keys were on the hook by the front door, fortunate, since Merlin didn't particularly relish the idea of rooting through the blood and guts on the living room carpet to get to Val's pockets.

"Where are we going, then?" Will asked once they were safely into Val's Corsa.

"Ealdor," Merlin said, face determined, "We're going to get my mum."

*

Ealdor was a nearby suburb about twenty minutes' drive from their house. Along the way they ran over six zombies and swerved out of the way of dozens more. Will drove with a sort of manic glee that Merlin didn't really think was warranted by their current situation, pulling up outside Merlin's mum's semi with a screech of tyres.

"Merlin!" she greeted him with a broad smile. "I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow. So nice of you to visit, I was just putting the kettle on..."

"Mum, this isn't a visit, it's a rescue," Merlin said, pulling urgently at her arm, "You need to come with me, now."

"Whatever for, dear?" She smiled at him, confused but fond, as if he was four years old and trying to get her to join in one of his games.

"Haven't you been watching the news?"

"I don't watch the telly much, you know that," she tutted, brushing a loose strand of hair back from her face. Then Merlin saw the bruise.

"Mum, what's happened?"

"Oh this?" She raised her hand a little self-consciously to her face. "It's nothing. Just my neighbour Mr. Kanen, you know what he's like sometimes, I didn't want to worry you."

"Wait, Mum, when was this?"

"Oh only about an hour ago, dear, he tried to come through the patio doors but I kicked him out and turned the deadlock, why?"

"He didn't... bite you, did he?"

"Good heavens, no, why do you ask?" Merlin breathed a sigh of relief.

"Look, Mum, just, just come with me and get in the car, ok?"

"If you insist, Merlin. Where are we going?"

"To get Freya."

*

Will was not overly happy about this plan.

"She dumped you, Merlin, you don't owe her anything."

"That doesn't mean I want to leave her to get torn limb from limb by flesh hungry cannibals, Will."

When they had been going out, it had been kind of convenient that Freya worked in the office across the street from Albion Inc. When she'd kept complaining about him and Arthur working late it was a bit less convenient, and when she'd dumped him it had been kind of awkward; but now he was going to rescue her from certain death it was really quite convenient again, because he knew exactly where to go, although the growing numbers of the undead were a little less than convenient it had to be said. And when Freya appeared in front of them, walking towards the car, it was just a little bit too convenient to be true.

Merlin got out of the car despite Will's protests, slamming the car door shut behind him.

"Lock the doors," he told Will gruffly. "Freya!" She looked up at the sound of his voice, dead eyes fixing themselves on him. "Freya, it's me, Merlin."

She began to shuffle towards him.

All his hope died, but still, he couldn't quite bring himself to run, or to attack her.

Then she was felled by a stapler to the head.

"Freya!" Merlin cried, rushing towards her. Arthur Pendragon appeared in the corner of his vision.

"Phew, knew all those years bowling for the first XI at school weren't a dead loss."

"You _killed_ her!" Merlin exclaimed.

"Technically she was already dead, Merlin, what I actually just did was save your life. You might want to consider thanking me."

"You prat!" Merlin yelled, . "I can't believe I was thinking of taking you with me."

"Taking me with you where, Merlin? Don't tell me you've got some kind of zombie-proof safe house hidden up your sleeve," Arthur scoffed. Merlin hadn't actually thought the plan through beyond the rescuing his mum and Freya part, but the answer loomed in his mind, simple and obvious. What did they always do in any crisis? Go to the pub, of course.

"We're going to the Camelot, actually. And you are _so_ not invited."

"The _Camelot_? That seedy little theme pub you drink in? Why would I ever want to go there?"

"It's got heavy, lockable doors and a supply of food. And alcohol." Merlin tapped his fingers as he listed each reason. "And it's... it's just safe. But don't worry, clearly you've got a good set-up here, hurling stationery at them. Have a nice death." Merlin turned on his heel and strode back towards the car.

He told himself he wasn't going to look back, but a startled yelp from Arthur was all it took to break this resolution. He looked round to see that one of the zombies – who bore a suspcious resemblance to work experience brat, Mordred - had got hold of Arthur's Armani jacket while two more were closing in on him as he struggled out of zombie-Mordred's grasp.

"Sod it," Merlin swore under his breath and ran towards him. There were a couple of trees overhanging the entrance to Albion Inc. and it was easy enough to will the branches to snap and fall on Arthur's attackers. Merlin had a second to hope that Arthur hadn't noticed before reflecting that with the undead roaming the Earth, a little bit of magic was hardly likely to phase anyone. He helped Arthur up. "Come on, you're coming with us."

"No," Arthur shook his head.

"Don't be a stubborn prat!"

"My father's still up there. And Morgana. I can't leave them"

"Shit. Alright, we can take Morgana and... your dad, really?"

"Merlin! He's my _father_ , I'm not just going to leave him to die."

"No, no, of course not. Come on then." Arthur shot him a grateful look that made his insides twist a little and Merlin raced up the stairs after him, hoping that Will had followed his advice and locked the doors.

 

*

"Didn't I fire you?" were Uther's first words as Merlin burst into the office where he, Owain from the IT department and Bedevere were holed up.

"I really don't think that's important right now," Merlin said, rolling his eyes. "We need to get you out of here. All of you." Although how they were all going to fit into Valiant's Corsa Merlin had no idea. "Arthur!" he called, "Have you found Morgana yet?" There was the sound of a scream from the corridor and Merlin rushed out, Uther following close behind.

Helen from accounts was practically on top of Arthur, teeth bared. Almost without thinking, Merlin pushed the filing cabinet next to him with his magic, making it fly across the room, knocking her away from Arthur and pinning her to the wall.

"Jesus, Merlin, how the hell did you manage that?" Arthur gasped as he staggered to his feet.

"That's twice I've saved your life now, you might want to consider thanking me," Merlin said. The truth was he had no idea how he'd managed it, it was easily the heaviest thing he'd ever managed to move with his magic. Perhaps he had hidden depths of strength that only revealed themselves in emergency situations, like mothers who could lift cars to rescue trapped babies. "Where's your sister?"

Arthur's face darkened. "She's not my sister."

"Step-sister, then. Semantics, Arthur, where is she?"

"No, Merlin, you don't understand, she's not my sister, not anymore. She's one of them." His voice was tight and strained. Merlin reached out without thinking and placed a comforting hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry, Arthur, I really am, but we need to go. Now."

Arthur nodded, squeezed Merlin's shoulder briefly and ran for the stairs.

They weren't quick enough.

Bedevere was the first to fall, as two zombies appeared from an open doorway just before the stairwell. Owain tripped and they got him too, dragging him back by his shoes. Merlin kept running, reaching the bottom of the stairwell first and pushing open the door, Arthur and his father close behind. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Will driving over the patch of grass in front of the building, knocking over 'Keep Off the Grass' signs to stop with a jolt right outside the door.

"Cheers Will, you're a lifesaver," he grinned, jumping into the front seat. Arthur clambered into the back, his father close behind. "Mum, this is Arthur Pendragon, my- er - ex boss, and this is his father, Uther. Arthur, this is my mum, Hunith."

"Pleased to meet you," Hunith said, reaching across to shake hands with Arthur and a somewhat stunned Uther. Merlin couldn't be sure whether he was more horrified by the zombie attack on one of his divisional offices or having to get in the back of a Corsa with Merlin in it.

"Oh Christ, what have you brought him for?" Will said, glaring at Arthur in the rear view mirror.

"Will!"

"Couldn't we at least have taken his jag instead?" Will whined.

"Shut up and drive, will you," Arthur snapped.

Will made to do just that, when there was a thump against the side of the car.

"Morgana!" Uther Pendragon cried, winding down the window furiously, "My daughter, please!"

"Will, drive, now!" Merlin yelled and Will put his foot down. Zombie Morgana didn't let go though, fingers slipping through the opened window, hanging on for unlife as they sped along the street. "Mr. Pendragon, please wind your window up."

"But _Morgana_..."

"That's not her, that's not your daughter, please!"

He hesitated and the zombie who had been Morgana was half in the car, teeth gnashing.

"Father!" Arthur shouted and reached across, punching his step-sister in the face causing her to fall back, then quickly winding the window back up again.

"If only we'd taken the jag," Will said. "Bet that has electric windows."

"Father, are you alright?" Arthur laid one hand on his father's arm.

Uther Pendragon was most definitely not alright. His face was quickly greying as blood gushed out from a jagged bite wound in his neck.

“Shall I put the radio on, lighten the mood?” Will suggested.

“Shut _up_ , Will,” Merlin hissed furiously.

"Arthur," croaked Uther.

"I'm right here, father." Arthur bent his head closer.

"Arthur I know I haven't been the best father to you... being a father isn't... isn't easy, you know. I just wanted you to be... be strong. Be the best. I always... loved you."

"Father, please," Arthur's eyes were filling with tears. Merlin turned away, keeping his eyes on the walking corpses on the road rather than the soon-to-be one in the back of the car.

"You know what you have to do, son," Uther croaked.

"Will, stop the car," Merlin said quietly. They were all thrown forwards by the suddenness of Will's emergency stop. "Are you sure you've passed your test?" Merlin frowned at him. Will grinned, holding up two fingers in a V sign.

"Scout's honour."

"That's not even... you were never in the Scouts, Will."

The two of them got out and Will opened the boot.

"Jack. That should do it." He handed it to Merlin. "There you go, get to fill every working man's fantasy, bludgenoning your boss's skull in."

"He's not my boss, Arthur's my boss," Merlin said. And tried not to reflect that the fantasies he'd had about Arthur had nothing to do with smashing his skull in, because really, it was neither the time nor the place. He knocked on the car window. "Mum, you'd better get out. You really don't want to see this. Arthur?"

"I'll do it," Arthur said, emotionless. "You, all of you, just..."

"Yeah," said Merlin, handing him the jack and backing away. "We'll just be... yeah."

*

They huddled under a tree a few paces away, the mood sombre. Arthur joined them a few minutes later, grim faced and blood spattered. Merlin started towards him, one hand held out as if to comfort him before reflecting that they didn't really do hugs, letting his arm fall limply to his side instead.

"Come on,“ he said, "Let's get going."

"We're not just leaving the car?" Will said, incredulous, as Merlin started walking away.

"Can't you just hotwire another one?" Arthur said nastily.

"Oh, I like the way you just _assume_ I'm some kind of criminal."

"It's not an assumption, Merlin told me. He had to borrow money from me for your bail."

"Merlin!" Will was outraged, "You never told me..." Merlin flushed.

"Look, it doesn't matter now, does it. Can you hotwire a car or not?"

"No."

"Well," Merlin lifted his chin, determined, "We'll just have to walk, then. It's only a couple of streets."

"A couple of streets crawling with zombies," Will huffed.

"Right, you stay here, I'll check if the coast is clear." Merlin hauled himself up onto the lower branches of the tree and looked before jumping down and dusting himself off.

"Well, is it clear?" Arthur demanded.

"Er, no, there's tons of them."

"Brilliant."

*

They crept along as quiet as they could, Arthur in the lead, stopping every so often to give them complicated hand signals which either meant 'come on' or 'stay there' or 'go back'. Merlin and Will gave up trying to decipher them, shrugging at one another, Will scowling at Arthur whenever his back was turned.

"Idiots!" Arthur hissed as they piled into him. "I signalled you to go that way."

"Sorry, we don't speak semaphore," Will grumbled.

"There's one of them behind the next corner, I can hear them. Everyone grab whatever you can." Arthur still had the jack, Will had acquired a garden spade from somewhere. Merlin magically snapped a couple of pointed branches off of a nearby tree and handed one to his mum. They held their weapons aloft, tensing in readiness as the footsteps rounded the corner.

"Don't shoot!" Merlin called quickly as he realised suddenly who it was: Gwen. Alive. Carefully, Arthur lowered his weapon and Gwen lowered hers.

"Merlin!" She grinned and wrapped her arms around him.

"Gwen! We're going to the Camelot, do you want to come with us?"

"Thanks, but we're heading for the Queen's Head instead." Four more figures appeared behind her. "This is my brother Elyan, my dad, my boyfriend Lance and his mate Percival." She smiled, sweet and self-assured and entirely incongrous to the apocalyptic situation, obviously waiting for a similar introduction to Merlin's own companions..

"Ah, yeah, this is my flatmate Will, my mum and this is Arthur. My boss. Ex boss."

"Friend," Arthur supplied, nodding at Gwen and Merlin couldn't help the flush of warmth that resulted from Arthur calling him his friend.

"Lovely to meet you," Gwen smiled, "We'd better get going. See you soon, though. Keep in touch!"

"Yeah, see you around," Merlin waved as they passed by, but he couldn't help wondering if they really would, under the circumstances. And whether they'd still be alive if they did, or trying to eat each other's brains.

*

There really was a zombie around the next corner. Arthur drew himself up and battled it gamely with the jack, feinting to the left as he jabbed forwards in one fluid movement.

"Feel free to help me out, any time," he called, ducking under its arm and dealing it a killing blow to the back of the neck with the jack.

"Nah, you were doing alright," Merlin grinned. Arthur gave him an exasperated look as it dropped to the floor.

"Come on," Arthur ordered, marching onwards.

"Who died and made you king of the zombies?" Will snorted, but they followed all the same.

They crept further along the alleyway, slow like the zombies, trying not to raise their suspicion. If zombies had such a thing. The Camelot was almost in sight when there was a muffled squeak from behind them.

"Merlin!" Merlin's mum called quietly. He stopped dead and turned back, feeling sick.

"Mum!"

Hunith was trapped up against the fence, a tall woman with long dark hair and dead eyes, unmistakeably one of _them_ , almost upon her. Arthur started to run, but she was too far back for him to reach before the zombie got to her. Merlin looked frantically around for something he could throw with his magic when there was a sudden crash and someone barelled into the zombie, knocking it off course before smashing its head in with a rock. The someone turned out to be a tall young man with stubble and flowing hair that probably would have been gorgeous if it hadn't been ever so slightly matted with blood and zombie brains.

"Hi," the stranger said as he picked himself up, "I'm Gwaine."

Merlin thought he heard Arthur mutter 'show off' behind him before he ran to embrace first his mother then Gwaine.

"Thank you, thank you," he gasped before turning back to Hunith. "Mum, you're alright, you're not... there's blood!" His face fell.

"Oh it's alright, dear, it's not mine," his mother said with a shaky smile. "Come on, love, let's get to this pub of yours, shall we?"

"Pub?" Gwaine grinned. "I like you lot already."

 

**

 

The Camelot stood on the corner, a tall Victorian brick building with an old fashioned swinging sign depicting a castle with a dragon flying over the ramparts.

"There it is," Merlin hissed, one hand curling over Arthur's wrist as they paused across the street.

"Doesn't look like much," Arthur scoffed, but Merlin could see the relief on his face.

"Problem," Will said, nodding over at a small crowd of about six or seven zombies rooting around the bins at the side of the pub.

"There's too many of them." Arthur shook his head.

"Merlin," Will poked him in the side, "Can't you just..." he waggled his fingers. Merlin considered. He could probably tip the wheelie bins but that wouldn't take out all of them and would alert the others.

"Well," said Gwaine, "If you can't beat 'em..." He stepped out into the road, looked back over his shoulder and winked, "Join 'em." Merlin stared, before he understood what Gwaine was doing, holding his arms loosely and moaning. He grinned.

"Mum," Merlin said, "You've got to be a zombie, yeah? Not far now." Hunith nodded, looking a little pale, and the four of them stepped out after Gwaine, shuffling and groaning like the undead around them. They went unnoticed, making it safely to the door of the Camelot. Merlin breathed a sigh of relief.

"Quick, let's get inside, then we can bar the door," Merlin whispered, _pushing_ with his magic to open it.

And setting off the alarm.

"Merlin you _idiot_!" Arthur exclaimed, as all the zombies in the vicinity turned towards the pub. "Can't you do anything without fucking it up?"

Merlin tried to push back the hurt at his words.

"No," he snapped, "I can't. I can't keep a girlfriend, I can't keep a job, I can't stop the zombie apocalypse. Sorry that me so spectacularly fucking up my own life is inconveniencing you, _Mr_ Pendragon."

"Merlin..."

"No! You get Mum, Will and Gwaine inside, turn off the bloody alarm."

"And what are you going to do?" Arthur demanded, skeptical, but with a hint of worry in his eyes.

"I'll... distract them." He took a deep breath, then, "Oi, zombies! Get your fresh brains here!" he yelled.

"Merlin you idiot," Arthur said again, but this time there was an underlying note of admiration and maybe even affection in his tone. Merlin ran, and the zombies shuffled after him, leaving the others free to get into the pub unmolested.

As he ran, he pushed objects at them, bins, roof tiles, branches, anything he could move with his magic. As a car rolled across the street to crush several of the zombies beneath it, Merlin blinked at just how powerful his magic seemed to be getting. _Desperate times,_ he thought to himself as he managed to give the last of them the slip and get in through the side door, barely noticing the magical push he had to give the door to open it.

The alarm was off, but the others were bickering still. Arthur stood frowning in that commanding sort of a way he had, looking for all the world like he was chairing a conference rather than hiding from a zombie attack. Will, Gwaine and Hunith sat around a large round table in the centre of the room – not Will and Merlin's usual table but it seemed fitting, somehow.

"All I'm saying is that somebody needs to take charge of the situation."

"And why should it be you?" Will demanded.

"Yeah, you kind of blew our cover having a tiff with your boyfriend out the front there," Gwaine put in.

"I wasn't the one who set off the alarm! And he's not my boyfriend. Besides, who else is going to be in charge, Merlin? If he's even still alive."

"He got us here, didn't he?" Will demanded, on the defensive.

"Do you really think his masterplan extends to anything more than eating pickled eggs in the dark?"

"Course it does," Merlin said with false bravado, "It extends to drinking beer as well. Will, fulfill your life's ambition and get behind the bar and get us some drinks will you?"

"Now this is a masterplan I can get behind," Gwaine grinned, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on the table.

"Well," Arthur grumbled but only half-heartedly, "If you're in charge you can fix the lights, can't you?"

"Don't know your way around a fusebox, Arthur?"

"Don't know my way around this pub of yours."

"It should be through here," Merlin crossed to a swing door next to the bar marked 'private'. "You coming?"

There was a cough from Will that sounded suspiciously like 'you wish'. Merlin blushed and tried to ignore the heat creeping up his spine. It wasn't easy in the tiny space of the understairs cupboard where the fusebox was located, in the dark with Arthur all but breathing down his neck behind him. He felt his skin tingle.

Feeling for the plastic box half way up the far wall, Merlin flicked all the switches, clicking his teeth in frustration when nothing happened.

"It's not working," he sighed wearily.

"Here, let me," Arthur reached past him, hand brushing against Merlin's hand and there was a sudden spark. He felt the magic leaping out of him and then the lights came on. Merlin blinked, eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness. Perhaps it wasn't the zombies after all, perhaps it was _Arthur_. But his magic had never reacted to Arthur's proximity like this in the office, not even that time they'd bumped into one another in the stationery cupboard which had haunted Merlin's dreams for weeks afterwards. Arthur eyed him oddly, before shaking his head and stepping back. "Electric shock," he said eventually, flexing his fingers until the knuckles cracked.

Then there was a thump above their heads.

"There's someone up there," Arthur whispered.

"It could be Mary," Merlin said. "The landlady," he clarified, seeing Arthur was about to ask. The thumping grew closer, moving down the stairs.

"It could be one of them. The door wasn't locked, was it?" It had been, but Merlin wasn't about to try to explain his magic just at that point. "We'd better stay really quiet until we know for sure."

They burst back into the bar, footsteps following them.

"You got the power on again then?" Will called, feeding coins into the bandit.

"Will, stop that, we've got to be really quiet." Merlin turned to Arthur. "It's alright, it's not like he ever..." He was cut off as the lights started flashing, the bandit started whirring and making a  
celebratory jingling noise and coins began to shoot out into the tray at the bottom. "...wins." Merlin sighed in defeat. Will gave a delighted whoop and began scooping up his winnings. It was a matter of seconds before Mary pushed through the swing door and into the bar.

Or what had once been Mary.

For a few seconds they all froze. Then Will began pelting her with coins he'd won. Of course they were all unarmed, thinking themselves safe inside. Merlin took a step back, thinking fast as she bore down on Arthur, who was trying to fend her off with a table. He spared a quick glance for his mum, safe enough with Gwaine bundling her into a booth in the corner. There had to be _something_. He felt himself bump against the jukebox and there was that spark again; the jukebox leapt into life, blaring out Queen's _It's a Kind of Magic_. Merlin rolled his eyes. Like he needed the hint.

Zombie-Mary started walking towards him with murderous intent.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted.

Gwaine grabbed a pool cue and tossed it to Will. Who missed.

 _One dream, one soul, one prize, one goal,  
One golden glance of what should be_

"There's a sword," Gwaine said, as zombie-Mary turned towards Will, seemingly undecided whose brains to eat first, "Over the bar."

 _One shaft of light that shows the way  
No mortal man can win this day_

"Plastic," Will shook his head. Merlin looked up. Plastic it might be but it looked heavy enough. He concentrated his energy in that direction and the sword-and-stone ensemble tumbled down, crushing zombie-Mary's skull.

"Huh," Arthur said. "Maybe it wasn't plastic after all. Awfully lucky it just happening to fall like that."

Will looked at Merlin and laughed nervously. Arthur was looking at Merlin too. He shrugged. It wasn't really even as if he needed to keep it a secret anymore, it might be the most useful weapon they had in this situation, especially if it really was becoming more powerful, but old habits died hard. Still, he didn't think his innocent face was quite enough to convince Arthur, especially with Queen still doing their best to rat him out.

 _It's a kind of magic, it's a kind of magic, it's a kind of magic_

Merlin pulled the plug out.

"So, this sword?"

Arthur's attention was easily distracted.

"Looks real enough," he said, wrapping two hands around the hilt and pulling it easily out of the shattered stone. Which was indeed very much stone and not plastic as Merlin and Will had always assumed. Arthur twirled it around a bit, testing its weight.

"Hey, how come posh twat gets the sword?" Will pouted.

"Stands to reason," Arthur shrugged, "I assume I have the most relevant experience. I do fence, you know."

"So do I," Gwaine said unexpectedly. "Fencing captain at Harrow, two years running." Arthur's eyes narrowed.

"Oh Jesus, first zombies invade my flat, now posh twats have invaded my pub talking about bloody fencing," Will complained.

"Oh don't look like that, princess,“ Gwaine said to Arthur, who looked a little put out, "You can keep your sword. I'm just as handy with this." Gwaine picked up the fallen pool cue.

"Can I have a look at it?" The bickering stopped as Hunith's voice rang out across the bar.

"Of course." Arthur strode over to her, laying the sword across the table. Gwaine gestured to Will and they went to pour more drinks.

"I'm glad you've got this," Hunith said, voice soft and a little scratchy. "It seems right. And you'll need it. Arthur," she laid a hand on his wrist. "You'll take care of my boy, won't you? I know he's always thought a lot of you, though he might not show it. And you. You care for him too, I can tell."

"I do," Arthur admitted, catching Merlin's eye and staring for a second before looking back at Huntih. He swallowed, before quietly adding, "You've been bitten, haven't you?"

"It was that girl outside in the alley. Just a little scratch, I didn't want to worry anyone. It's taking longer than it did for your father but it's happening, I can feel it. You do it. That sword, it'll be clean. I don't want to be one of them. Please."

"Mum, no!" Merlin ran over to them, horrified. "Arthur, don't you dare, you can't... _Mum_!" He tried to wrestle the sword from Arthur's grip.

"Merlin, _Merlin!_ " Arthur placed his hands on Merlin's shoulders, despite his struggles. "Merlin listen to me. Your mother is dying. There's nothing you or I can do to stop that but we can respect her wishes and not let her turn into one of them. Do you understand me?"

Merlin shook his head, there must be something. What use was his magic if he couldn't save anyone with it? He tried to reach for the spark but he couldn't, it went nowhere, this wasn't something he could do.

"How can you? How can you... it's my _mum_!"

"I know, Merlin, I know." Arthur took a deep breath. "I know exactly how hard this must be for you because I had to kill my father this afternoon. Come on, Merlin. Be strong." Arthur pulled Merlin to him and kissed his temple. Merlin nodded. There was one more thing he could try. Once or twice, when he'd been at school, quite without meaning to, he'd sent his teacher to sleep. It had never worked when he'd _tried_ to do it, but sometimes when he'd wanted an escape badly enough. He closed his eyes and pushed _sleep_ with all he had. When he opened his eyes, Hunith had closed hers and was still. Arthur squeezed his arm and Merlin screwed his eyes shut tight as Arthur brought down the sword.

**

The four of them drank generous measures of whisky in silence. Merlin's hands were shaking and Arthur placed a comradely hand on his shoulder which did little to calm him, the sparks of magic getting jittery once more.

"Another?" Gwaine asked, draining his glass. "So, it's the apocalypse? We might as well get royally pissed. The ones who live to get hangovers will be the lucky ones." Will at least held his glass up for a refill.

"There's hundreds of them out there now," Merlin said quietly. "I can feel them."

There was the sudden sound of breaking glass.

"The side door. Fuck."

"Quickly," Arthur said, rising to his feet, "Get something to block it up with." He reached for his sword.

Two of them had got in before Merlin managed to seal off the door, sending every large item of furniture he could to block up the doorway. Gwaine impaled one with his pool cue and Arthur swung at its head with the sword but missed. Will pulled a lighter from his pocket, set fire to the remains of the bottle of whisky and threw it, setting the zombie alight.

"Easy there," Arthur cried, ducking out of the way of the flames.

"You nearly caught my hair on fire," Gwaine said, shaking his head and grinning. Then the other zombie latched onto Arthur's back. Arthur span round, trying to shake it off. Merlin cursed, it was impossible to throw anything or drop anything on it without risking hurting Arthur instead. His magic seemed to rage within him but what could he do? The sparks were almost tangible now, crackling beneath his fingers. If only he could harness them, like a bolt, or... He let go, magic like lightning, almost visible as a crack in the air between them. The zombie crumpled into ash, completely obliterated. Arthur gasped and staggered and Merlin ran to him, wrapping him in a tight embrace.

"You... you're kind of magic, you know," Arthur said as he pulled back. Merlin punched him on the arm.

"Git."

"I meant it. You are, you're..." Arthur's expression was fond and Merlin couldn't look away even though he knew he should be more alert. As a result he failed to see the first zombie, still on fire but apparently undeterred, coming up behind them, teeth bared.

Will all but flew across the room, knocking Arthur out of the zombie's path. Gwaine followed swiftly, hitting the zombie with a snapped off chair leg right between its eyes, and it slid to the floor.

"Nick of time, eh?" Gwaine smiled. Arthur staggered to his feet, his hand finding Merlin's once more.

"Thank you," Arthur turned to Will, who was still on the floor, clutching his shoulder. "You alright?“ he asked, brow creasing in confusion. Merlin's eyes followed the line of Arthur's gaze. There was blood flowing out from between Will's fingers. He'd been bitten.

"Will, no!" Merlin let go of Arthur's hand and ran to his friend, dropping to his knees beside him.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," Will grimaced. "You make sure you take good care of each other."

"No, Will, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I couldn't save you." Merlin's anguished cry was followed by the sound of more breaking glass. The zombies were finding their way in.

"We'd better run, princess," Gwaine was saying and then there were arms hauling him back, away from his dying friend. "Come on, behind the bar," Merlin heard and all he could wonder was how Gwaine could think this was the time for another drink before he was dragged after them. Arthur's voice snapped him out of his grief-stricken daze.

"Merlin! Merlin, come on, we need you to focus. Where can we go? Is there another exit, or..."

"Cellar," Merlin said, "Hatch is just back here."

"You go ahead," Gwaine said, "I'll hold them off."

"Don't be ridiculous," Arthur protested.

"No arguments," Gwaine stayed firm, "Get Merlin out of here, he's in no fit state to help us like that, I'll follow you down, I swear."

Merlin followed Arthur down the cellar steps, blazing light half blinding him as Gwaine set fire to the bar.

*

It was cool in the cellar. Merlin leaned his forehead against the stone wall, trying to collect his thoughts.

"Merlin, come on, come back to me." Arthur's hand was on his shoulder, fingers skimming his neck lightly and Merlin felt his magic swirling and sparking once more.

"What's the use?" Merlin said dully, allowing himself to rest his head against Arthur's shoulder. "What's the point of any of this," he gestured, _magic, life in general_ , "If I can't save people? I couldn't save mum, or Will, or Freya. I can't save us now. I can't save us, Arthur."

To Merlin's surprise, Arthur's answer to this was to tilt his chin back and draw him into a soft kiss with just a hint of end-the-world desperation in it.

"I'm glad you're here, Merlin, at the end," he said. Merlin's magic surged, then, and he thought fiercely, _No, it won't end like this, I won't_ let _it._

"Fuck this," Merlin said, "I'm not sitting around here waiting to die. We're meant for more than this, I _know_ it. I've lost my ex-girlfriend, my mum and my flatmate today, I'll be damned if I'm going to lose my boss too. "

"Technically I'm not your boss anymore. You got fired. And the company got destroyed by the undead."

"Ex boss, then."

"Friend." Arthur took his hand. "Good friend," he amended. Merlin raised one eyebrow.

"Boyfriend?" he suggested. "I might very well be the last man alive, you know."

"You might." Arthur squeezed his hand. "Boyfriend, then." He kissed him again until Merlin was almost dizzy with the sensation, the feel of Arthur's lips on his, the way his magic leaped and sparked. There was a cough behind them and they broke apart a little sheepishly.

"Hate to break up the snog fest but we are under attack by a rampaging zombie horde."

"Gwaine! You're alive."

"So I am. What's the plan?"

Merlin drew himself up.

"I can push some of them back with my magic, but not all. I can enchant your sword, Arthur and Gwaine..."

"This pool cue hasn't let me down yet."

"Good. I'll clear your path as best I can but I'll need you two to fight your way through."

"Alright, magic man, I'm game," said Gwaine, swigging from a bottle of bacardi he'd snagged from the bar. Arthur rolled his eyes at him.

"We can't defeat an undead army," he protested, seriously. Merlin gave him a half-smile.

"We don't know until we try."

**

The fighting was fierce and there were times when it seemed they might not make it after all. The three of them were joined by other survivors, a motley band of knights, including Gwen, Lancelot and their companions. Some were in tanks, some in trainers, but the abiding image of the day which would remain etched on Merlin's mind forever after was that of Arthur holding the sword aloft, the dawn light glancing off it as he almost single-handedly decimated the zombie horde (with just a little bit of magic to help).

The resulting clean up and rebuilding of civilization was a slow process, and all of the survivors had their parts to play. The afternoon of the attack and the beginnings of the resistance, though – Arthur and Merlin and the round table in the Camelot – would soon pass into legend.


End file.
